


Bracelet

by Emsiecat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Lake-town, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired after reading this post:</p><p>aquilea-of-the-lonely-mountain:<br/>Where does Thorin get these bracelets (he's wearing after reaching Laektown) from? He doesn’t wear them during the barrel escape, and I can’t imagine Bard giving them accessories like ‘I know that you only need warm clothes, but I guess they’ll look good on you’. They are probably Thorin’s own, but where the hell did he hide them? And where can I get them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bracelet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquileaofthelonelymountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/gifts).



"An' how may I help you today, little sir?" 

Bilbo almost bristled at the somewhat condescending title, but swallowed down both his ire and the raspy cough, which seemed to be plaguing him since his impromptu dip in the river, and shuffled closer to the market stall. 

"If you please, madam; I was hoping to buy some of that leather cord there… and how much for those clasps as well?" 

Bilbo pulled his borrowed coat tighter about him and rubbed at his upper arms to ward off the chill from the wintry air kicking up little flurries of snow off the cold lake waters. Winterfilth had only started yesterday upon their arrival and it was his birthday no less; yet Laketown already had a fine layer of snow covering it, this would be simply unheard of back in the Shire! 

Coupled with the terrible head cold he seemed to be developing, Bilbo was not keen on the idea of leaving the Master's house for longer than necessary. However, certain traditions simply must be observed, and he would find mathoms to gift to his dwarves even if he had to suffer freezing to do it. 

Their arrival to Laketown had been rather monumental; a harrowing escape from Mirkwood's dungeons using barrels, being smuggled into the town by Bard, and then being dragged up before the Master when they were caught trying to raid his armoury. Thankfully, Thorin's fine speech and Bilbo's vouching for his character had assured them a far warmer welcome than they had hoped. 

Now it seemed that most everyone knew of the troop of dwarves and hobbit staying with the Master until they were due to set off for the Lonely Mountain in a week's time.

All to the better, Bilbo thought just a little glum, he would much rather face a dragon with a clear head than one that felt as if it were stuffed full of cotton wool. He could barely think straight with the pounding at his temples and the muzzy, giddy feeling, which seemed determined to confine him to bed. 

"Three copper." The woman had a shrewd look about her, obviously overcharging for so plain an item as leather cord, and the clasps were clearly not made of precious metal, but Bilbo found he felt too ill to haggle much. 

"Two copper and five pennies," Bilbo tried, rooting around in his pocket for a little of the money he had left over. 

"Seven pennies." 

"Six."

"Very well, done." The woman reached over, giving Bilbo's hand a firm shake and taking the coins at the same time. She palmed them and slipped them into a pocket in her apron before handing over the leather cord and clasps. "Seems t' me you'd be better off spendin' that coin on more weapons if I was you, little sir." 

"Perhaps," Bilbo allowed, shooting the woman a wan smile and confided. "But if I'm to be roasted alive by a dragon in the near future, I'd rather have a little enjoyment before then." 

She laughed the sound of it merry and at odds with their dour subject, but Bilbo found his own lips quirking in response as he slipped his purchases in his coat pocket. There was no good in fretting over what would be after all, and he may as well heed his own words and make the most of things for now.

 

* * *

 

Bilbo had not been able to afford much in the way of mathoms. He had mostly bought ingredients so he could have the Master's cook prepare something special for his dwarves. He would have cooked it himself but as he was ill, he thought it would probably be an unpleasant prospect to receive food from one who suffered coughing and sneezing fits every few minutes. 

The dwarves _had_ assured Bilbo they would not catch his cold when he had warned them off earlier this morning. "We're hardy folk, Master Baggins." Glóin had insisted with a trace of pride in his voice, but Bilbo would rather not tempt fate so close to Durin's Day and cause a number of their party to fall ill before they planned to enter the mountain. 

Ingredients were all well and good (and Bilbo had been sorely tempted to give into mischief and order that Fíli be gifted with an apple pie, but eventually decided it would be too cruel to the poor lad); however, Bilbo had wanted something a little different to give to their leader. 

Thorin was a king, soon to be crowned if all went well at the mountain, and despite having no dealings with royalty before, Bilbo felt that they should probably be offered something a little more fine than a simple food dish for a mathom. 

Hence the cord and clasps…

Before their capture in Mirkwood, Thorin had been quite presentably dressed; for all his clothes and armour had been as travel stained and worn as the rest of them, there was something decidedly regal about his attire. He had worn furs and traces of velvets, the silvery hue to his hair clasps and armour seemed very fitting, and had matched well with the blue of his tunic and surcoat, which had complemented his eyes so nicely… 

Now though… poor Thorin had been loaned an outfit of mostly drab browns (saving the pleasant red of his new tunic), the fabric was ill fitting having been made for a man and not a dwarf, and the fabric itself although thick and warm enough for their current climate, appeared coarse and itchy. 

Not at all what a king should wear in Bilbo's opinion, even if he _was_ an exiled king. 

Therefore, Bilbo had decided that Thorin needed… something… _anything_ to return to him that regal air of importance he had carried about his person the very first night he had stepped through his door at Bag End.

It was just unfortunate that Laketown was a poor place, and Bilbo had not the money required to buy anything fine for him even if there was such a thing for sale in these parts.

The leather cord and silvery clasps would simply have to suffice.

Bilbo sat alone in his little room now, frowning with his tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrated on braiding the cord together in the semblance of a bracelet. The clasps, he decided, he would use to affix to the ends to hold the twined strands of leather together and stop it unravelling. 

Over, under, over, under…

It would be easier if he had one of his dwarves on hand to help, Bilbo thought as he gave a raspy little growl and sniffle as the leather refused to co-operate with his fumbling fingers. Nearly all of the dwarves in their Company had intricate, creative braids in their hair or beards; they would be able to plait this accursed leather together in a heartbeat. 

No, the stubborn thought was uttered aloud as his traitorous mind dare suggested that he call one of Thorin's nephews for help in this matter. This was _his_ gift to Thorin, and he was not about to be defeated by some scraps of leather and a head cold.

 

* * *

 

It took far longer than it would have done if Bilbo were well, but eventually the hobbit managed to twist the final clasp onto the end of the bracelet and gave a soft cry of triumph, only to curl in on himself shortly after and give himself over to another coughing fit… blasted cold! 

Maybe he would take a short nap before dinner and the revelation that he had ordered food for each dwarf catering to their individual tastes. He would be awake for that, he decided resolutely as he wormed beneath thick duvet and blankets and settled his head on his pillow, his hand still curled loosely around the bracelet. 

He admired it for a moment or two, foolishly proud of accomplishing something so simple given the way his head was swimming, and could not help but feel a warm little flutter in his chest when he considered presenting it to Thorin. It was nothing special… but still… he hoped his dwarf would like the gift… 

Bilbo was asleep before he could think anything further.

 

* * *

 

Thorin was concerned, Bilbo had not appeared for dinner as he had expected and when he had broached the subject with Óin who was seated on his left, the elderly dwarf had cupped a hand round his ear and shaken his head in response.

"Went up t' check on him earlier, nasty cold he came down with there … He was sleeping but it didn't seem like his fever was any worse, so thought it best just t' leave him be and let the sickness run it's course." 

There was a crafty look in the old dwarf's eyes as he regarded his king, bushy beard twitching with a poorly hidden smile. 

"Worried 'bout him are ye?" He dutifully ignored the ruddy shade of Thorin's cheeks and the way their leader opened his mouth as if to protest then thought better of it and remained silent. "A little food will do him the world o' good, he's slept long enough. An' not to dictate decorum to ye laddie, but it might be good manners if one of us goes and thanks him for this fine meal he arranged."

Óin spoke sense of course, their burglar had been sleeping a good few hours now since he had returned from his mysterious trip to the marketplace, and a decent meal would help him fight off the cold. 

They had all wondered what their hobbit had been up to when he had returned to the house with his hands shoved far too casually into his coat pockets and a sly sort of smile about his lips. He had croaked a greeting to them all, twitched his nose and sniffled, then disappeared upstairs and not come down since.

The reason for his overtly suspicious behaviour had become apparent when the odious Master had looked in on them later and pronounced that dinner for them had been paid for and arranged by Master Baggins.

It was not anything truly substantial given their lack of funds, but amongst the fare that the Master himself had offered them were dishes tailored to each dwarf in their party. A favourite thing for each of them, and Thorin felt his heart skip at the knowledge that over the course of the months in their company, Bilbo had evidently taken the time to truly listen to each of his companions and go so far as to find out their favourite foods. 

It was… very domestic, entirely endearing of course, and for some reason made Thorin feel a little… proud? Fond certainly, and he nodded to Óin as he watched his kith and kin happily tuck into their meal.

Taking one of the now clean dishes (as Bofur had just swiped the last slice of the pie that had been on it), Thorin used this as a plate, selecting a little of everything and accepting a mug of something hot and vaguely spicy smelling from Balin (hot mead perhaps?) before making his way upstairs to go and see Bilbo. 

Taking care not to spill anything, Thorin nudged open the door to Bilbo's room, hearing the chatter and singing and general noise from his fellows downstairs fade when he shut the door behind him. 

"Master Baggins… I have food here-"

"Oh, gracious." Bilbo had stirred when his door first opened, but at Thorin's words, the hobbit sat straight up in alarm and almost flopped back down again as dizziness plainly overtook him. "What time is it?" 

"Time you were eating something, Bilbo. Probably best you have another draught from Óin as well afterwards." 

Bilbo gave a pitiful little whine and buried his head in his hands briefly, the sound of his voice a raw whisper when he spoke. "I missed you all at dinner? I so wanted to see their faces when they finally got something they liked to eat after all this time." 

Thorin chuckled, the sound warm and affectionate as he sat on the end of the bed, settling the dish onto Bilbo's lap. "Rest assured they- _we_ were all very grateful." 

"I'm glad you liked it." Bilbo smiled broadly, and Thorin swallowed thickly at the sight. For as pale and drawn as the hobbit was; his hair a tangle of sweat damp curls, and eyes and nose red rimmed from his cold, he looked truly lovely when he smiled like that. 

"Might I ask why you did it though?" Thorin knew it was bad manners to question a gift, but he was curious and thankfully, Bilbo did not seem to mind as he took a tiny bite of the pie on his plate.

He swallowed it along with a sip of the warm drink, though it clearly pained his throat to do so and then replied, the smile still dancing in his eyes. "It was a way to thank you for helping to celebrate my birthday yesterday. We hobbits do not receive gifts on our birthdays, we give them… mathoms we call them. Unfortunately, I had nothing of real value on me and little money to spend given the loss of our belongings on our way here, but I had just enough for this and- and um…" 

Bilbo trailed off and reached down beside him, fingers fiddling with something Thorin could not see hidden beneath the folds of his blanket.

The dwarf waited patiently for Bilbo to collect himself. Waited silently as Bilbo took another nervous nibble of his food and a heartening gulp of his drink, cheeks flushed bright, stark now against the pallor of his face. 

"I thought perhaps a king should look a little more fine, even if he is going off to potentially slay a dragon," Bilbo whispered and lifted the concealed item for Thorin to see. "It isn't really anything at all, but I thought you might like it…" 

Bilbo handed over a length of plaited leather finished off with silvery clasps; it was plain and simple, but a rather pretty trinket… a bracelet, Thorin realised. 

Bilbo wetted his lips, uncertain if Thorin's continued silence was a good omen or ill, and hurried to explain himself despite the rawness lingering in his throat. "In all the tales I ever read about kingdoms and battles and grand adventures; kings were always portrayed as very… very fancy and wearing rich clothes and jewellery…"

Thorin's eyes lifted from his gift and met Bilbo's as the dwarf attempted not to smile too widely lest he offend the hobbit. "They would not get very far in a battle thus encumbered, Bilbo." 

"Oh… oh hush, I know _that_ ," Bilbo blustered, the tips of his ears now red and a frown marring his features. "I'm not a faunt or so naïve as all that to believe- well… I just thought it would be nice if you had _something_ a little frivolous to set you apart and- if- if you do not like it I can just-" 

"I do like it, Bilbo," Thorin reassured and caught up one of Bilbo's hands in his own, stopping it from twisting in the sheets. "It is lovely; I'm just not entirely sure why you would go to the bother of-" 

"It isn't obvious?"

Thorin's breath caught as he realised just how intently Bilbo was looking at him. The hand he was cradling in his own was warm, and Thorin realised that he had began stroking the palm with his thumb without even really thinking about it. 

"Obvious?" 

"That- that I've grown rather fond of you." Bilbo dropped his gaze to stare at their clasped hands then, his cheeks so red Thorin feared the poor hobbit might pass out, suffering from the cold as he was.

Thorin breathed out, the sound of it loud in the quiet of their room, and slightly shaky. "Fond as in-" He knew it was obtuse of him to question further, but he needed to be sure before- 

"I think there's quite a good chance I'm falling in love with you," Bilbo mumbled and ducked his head as if afraid to see Thorin's reaction, probable rejection…

"I'm glad you feel the same way." The reply was quiet, but Bilbo's head snapped up at the words, eyes wide in the gloom and almost disbelieving.

"Truly?" 

"Yes. I apologise for not making my regard known before now… What with the threat of a dragon upon us, I was unsure if it would be gratefully received or if such confessions would just be cruel in the face of… well-" 

Thorin was blushing now, he knew it, and his grip on Bilbo's hand had tightened somewhat. 

"Not cruel at all," Bilbo rasped and nudged his plate aside so he could shuffle closer. 

"You're sure this is not simply your cold speaking for you?" 

Bilbo laughed at that and broke off into a quiet cough and sniffle before gathering himself and replying. "No, I believe having a fever might be helping me to be bolder and thus confess… but my feelings have been true since the Carrock… maybe longer still." 

The hand in Thorin's grip twisted away and Bilbo took the bracelet from him, slipping it over Thorin's wrist. "Oh, it fits… good I wasn't quite sure if-" 

Thorin silenced him with a quick peck to his cheek and Bilbo blinked up at Thorin trying to repress a grin. "Don't get too close, you may still get sick." 

"Dwarves are hardy, as Glóin told you," Thorin stated, and proved his point by leaning down to kiss Bilbo's fevered forehead then nuzzle his hair. 

Bilbo chuckled, swatting at Thorin's arm ineffectually. "Well, if you're so certain you won't catch this lurgy, perhaps you should stay here with me for the rest of the night." 

A bold thing to say, even though it was meant innocently enough but Thorin seemed perfectly content to agree to Bilbo's request, removing the plate from the bed for the moment and then settling himself beside Bilbo. "Very well, only if you promise to eat some more though, you need to regain your strength, Óin says this is a bad cold."

"You're going to be a bossy caretaker if I let you stay, aren't you?" 

"Probably, yes…" 

"Hm, good, I don't think I'll mind that too much." 

Thorin smiled and let Bilbo tuck his face into the crook of his neck as he held him, his thumb absently brushing over the bracelet he had been given. He thought he could probably get used to this.


End file.
